


All My Tomorrows

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dancing, Dancing and Singing, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Established Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, F/M, Happy Molly Hooper, POV Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock Holmes Loves Molly Hooper, Sherlock Thinking, Slow Dancing, So Married, Songfic, Upcoming Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:55:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23822692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: Sherlock has thoughts about his relationship with Molly one afternoon when they're cleaning up the flat.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Comments: 6
Kudos: 69
Collections: Sherlolly Secret Santa: 2019





	All My Tomorrows

**Author's Note:**

> **manus-multae-cor-unum** requested a Sherlolly fic that incorporated "All My Tomorrows" by Frank Sinatra for their Sherlolly Secret Santa mod gift. I finally got to sit down and get the lyrics and listen to the song today, so here it is!

There were so many things that were different about their relationship than other ones he saw around them. John and Mary’s marriage was an outlier, it seemed, but in other ways, it wasn’t. He knew John mourned his wife to this day, but they had not had a typical marriage since Mary’s secret had come out when she was pregnant with Rosie. But for that period of time where things were good...Sherlock wanted that with Molly.

It had taken him some time to realize that was what he wanted in life: marriage, settling down away from his profession, perhaps children at a later point. He would never have thought himself being domesticated would be a goal in his life; he’d spent so long alone and preferring life that way, no matter how lonely it had gotten, that to have a family of his own choosing and a woman he wanted to spend his life with _should_ feel strange. But it didn’t.

Molly was doing some cleaning in the sitting area of Baker Street, music flowing freely around as he “helped.” He wasn’t slacking too often in the actual capability of helping, but he’d simply stare at the wondrous, perfect woman in front of him in awe that she chose him, long before he even realized she had wormed her way into his heart, and she kept choosing him, over and over, every day, every evening, every minute that she could.

She loved him, and that was one of the many reasons he loved her as well.

The song changed and he decided he’d had enough, plucking the spray bottle from her and sweeping her into his arms. There was space for the two of them to dance around the room, and her smile and surprised laughter told him that she didn’t mind this interruption to the cleaning.

_Today I may not have a thing at all_   
_Except for just a dream or two_   
_But I've got lots of plans for tomorrow_   
_And all my tomorrows belong to you_

This song...he’d felt it should be their song, for all the truths it held. She knew her father had enjoyed Frank Sinatra, and she often played him while she worked. He knew the words to this one and sang it to her as they danced, moving effortlessly around the furniture, close and yet closer still in more than the physical sense.

_Right now it may not seem like spring at all_   
_We're drifting and the laughs are few_   
_But I've got rainbows planned for tomorrow_   
_And all my tomorrows belong to you_

Things were good. Yesterday, or the yesterdays when his sister pulled her stunt with the confession, they hadn’t been. It had taken time and explanations and trust and love to heal, but they had and here, now, they were so much stronger for it. Those three words came more easily now, more often, and meant so much more to him and to her than they had that afternoon at Sherrinford, though he still had not told her of destroying the coffin with his bare hands because love, even loving her, had overwhelmed him.

_No one knows better than I_   
_That luck keeps passing me by, that's fate_   
_But with you there at my side_   
_I'll soon be turning the tide, just wait_

He knew luck was on his side now and had been for some time, but she had been there when it wasn’t, when the only thing keeping him from going back to drugs to alleviate the boredom was the cases from Lestrade and the work at Barts he found himself doing in the path lab. She had been there, seen him through it, a solid, steadying aspect in his life he had neither asked for nor thought he wanted at the time, but now he knew he could never do without her. His luck had changed for the better, but it could all go away again like the changing of the tide, and as long as she was by his side, living her tomorrows with him, he would be fine.

They would be fine. Together.

_As long as I've got arms that cling at all_   
_It's you that I'll be clinging to_   
_And all the dreams I dream, beg, or borrow_   
_On some bright tomorrow they'll all come true_

He dipped her then and then raised her up, and she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. He kissed her back, amazed that he could lose himself in the act, amazed that he could feel so much love for her. She was the light in his life that had been there even when the darkness had threatened to overtake him. It was all he could do not to ask her now, run off to the nearest registrar’s office and get a license, find a church, and get married today.

Tomorrow, he would ask. Get down on one knee perhaps, slip the ring on her finger before she awoke. He’d had the ring for months now, not sure when the best time would be to ask because he wanted it perfect. And there was never a time that seemed perfect enough. But maybe that was the point. If the act of dancing in the sitting room were to lead to this, a kiss where he felt his knees might go weak if they didn’t find a place to sit soon, or a kiss passionate enough to make him suggest retiring to his bed for the rest of the day, sod cleaning, then maybe there were other simple moments that would lead to a proposal that would be memorable for all the right reasons.

Tomorrow, he would ask her and find out if she would be joined to him for the rest of their lives. He was fairly sure she would say yes; he was hopeful, at least. Because all his tomorrows belonged to her, if she’d take them, and as they broke apart and he looked down at her, her eyes brimming with love and more, he knew she would take care of them.

Yes, tomorrow. He’d ask her tomorrow.

And then a new chapter in his life would begin.

_And all my bright tomorrows belong to you_


End file.
